I Left My Flaming Guitar In Monterey

Day Four

We've decided to see the highly recommended Monterey Aquarium this morning, so we fill up on the packaged danishes that pass for a continental breakfast and strawberries I picked up yesterday at a roadside stand and head out. On the way to the aquarium, we pass by Cannery Row, and the many tributes to John Steinbeck. I've gotta read some more Steinbeck, obviously. I had no idea he loved sardines so much.

The aquarium itself is amazing. First, we head to the Outer Bay wing, where we are greeted by the creatures that live right outside in the bay, which is really a 2 mile deep underwater canyon, bigger than the Grand Canyon. Jellyfish are really cool. And we get to see them up close, because the glass is magnifying. Then we come to a two story glass tank holding 300 pound tunas, hammerhead sharks, sea turtles, barracudas, and a lone dolphinfish (mahi mahi). Shortly after we arrive, they dump two hundred pounds of squid and fish in the tank to feed the fast swimmers. It's an amazing scene. We clap when a sea turtle finally moves his slow butt over and grabs a bit of squid. In about 3 minutes, the 200 pounds of food is gone.

We see otters, mollusks, a kelp forest, the octopus and the nautilus, a cuttlefish, eels, flat fish, starfish, sharks, anenomes, sea cucumbers, barnacles, crabs, and I get to pet a manta ray. They feel slimy, but they're not. They're like satin leather. Most of the little kids get shafted because their puny arms can't reach the ray. Ha ha ha! Puny children.

Finally, we realize we've been there for three hours and we're hungry! We hit the touristy Fisherman's Wharf again and settle on the Fish Hopper because they offer us a free sample of chowder. We are easy like that. I have the sesame seed encrusted mahi mahi (sorry dolphinfish!) with mango salsa. Sean has an artichoke stuffed with shrimp. We overpay, but the view is gorgeous. We see otters swimming by. The bathroom has toilet seat covers.

By the way, today I am wearing a brown python print, stretchy, collared V-neck, a khaki cargo skirt (cooler than it sounds), and my Prairie Farm Boots. These details help you envision the story.

We leave Monterey, and try to find the location of the Winchester Mystery House. Sean wants to see this thing, and he thinks it's near Santa Cruz. Turns out, it's near San Jose, and we won't be able to get there before the last tour ends. I promise that the next trip we take to California will be all about touring mansions. Secretly, I am frightened of this house, as it reminds me of Stephen King's (albeit terribly written) scary Rose Red. We then decide to jet up to Santa Cruz for the amusement park, until I read in Frommer's that it isn't open yet. Ooops! Undeterred, we make a plan to find an inexpensive motel in Napa Valley and drive straight there. We mostly look at the pretty scenery, which is much like that at Big Sur, until we see a lighthouse in the distance. We stop to get a picture. Turns out it is historic, is closed to the public, is a prime spot for whale watching, and is also a hostel! We see a whale in the distance. Well, I mostly see a blur of mist, but Sean promises me it is a whale. I wish the lighthouse were cleaner, but Sean likes the rust running down the sides. Whatever.

We arrive on the south side of San Francisco and zip through (yeah, I mean, crawl through) to the Golden Gate Bridge. I get a great view of the city in the dusk, and am promised a better view of the bridge the next day. Finally, we leave Highway 1 to travel inland to Napa. I've secured a room at the Chablis Inn for $65. Oh yeah. It's terribly easy to find, even though I am momentarily doubted by the driver, who shall remain nameless. We are two tired puppies. We decide to get pizza at Round Table and watch the finale of America's Next Top Model (my idea, of course). I have mixed feelings about Yoanna winning. I don't think Mercedes was really better overall, but none of them had the whole package. Oh well. Sean falls asleep at 11.

Day Five

The bed is very hard. I wake up with a sore back. But who cares? We're getting wine! I try to straddle the fence between California and classy and wind up in a pale pink sleeveless cowl-neck sweater, my black cargos, purple sneakers and my hoodie. The front desk woman (who, according to Sean, has an unfortunate mustache) recommends a restaurant next door for breakfast. She is a good woman. The restaurant has a breakfast menu that sets me to drooling. It's almost unsightly. I order the breakfast named --- wait for it -- Larry's Breakfast. Shout out to my friend Larry. Sean wonders if he should call Larry but stops short as his jaw drops at the order. Three eggs scrambled, hash browns (!!!), four sausage links, and biscuits and gravy. He's so silly. It's not so much. It's not like I ordered it with the hamburger patty or the chicken fried steak.

The first winery we go to is Sterling. I leave my camera in the car, like a dumbass, because this winery is located on the side of a hill, and you have to ride a suspended tram to get up there. It's a beautiful day, and the ride is breathtaking. The winery is all white, with bell carillons. Sean has been here before, and I leave myself in his hands. We take the self-guided tour and see the big casks of wine. They use plastic corks! We have the complimentary (with ticket price) tasting of four varietals, which is very nice. The staff is incredibly personable and pleasant, so we go to the reserve room to taste the special 1982 Cabernet Sauvignon, the wine that put this vineyard on the map, according to Jacquie. It's decanted and everything. It's also very, very yummy. It's also on sale for $35 (from $125), so Sean buys it! I feel very classy.

I stop at the restroom, and while musing about the appearance of yet more toilet seat covers, I almost leave the 22 year old wine in the stall. Ooops!

Next we drive down to Beringer Vineyards. The main tasting room and shop is in a very pretty house with pristine gardens that smell nice. Look, I ain't no Keats, okay? They smell nice. The girl at the tasting bar is younger than I am, so I don't really take her very seriously, although she seems to know what she's talking about. For some reason, I don't buy it. That must be very sad for her. Anyway, I think Sean is getting drunk. Or maybe it's me. I have all Cabernets and they're very strong. Sean has a white I actually like, and he buys a bottle. It's his favorite white wine, and it was the last wine he drank in San Francisco or something. It's named after Ed Sbragia, the head vintor. I am starting to realize that Sean is a closet wine snob.

After leaving Beringer with a handy box for our breakable alcohol stuff, we stop at Taylor's Refresher, a roadside stand in St. Helena, the cute little town in the middle of all the vineyards. They have a $9 Ahi Burger. Sheesh. I get an $8 steak sandwich, and we split a soda. It's a cute place, though, and we sit outside in the sun. The food is good, but I can't help but think that New York is not nearly as expensive as California.

After sobering up a little (Disclaimer: Sean is not driving drunk. I exaggerate for effect.), we drive down to Domain Chandon. That's right, it's time to drink champagne. This place is beautiful. We park next to a pond full of lilies and lily pads, surrounded by sculpture. The arbor at the entrance is covered with dripping wisteria that look like bunches of grapes. The restaurant/tasting bar offers a view that would be hard to have at your back all day. Let's put it this way: I want to jump the bar and run out onto the grass, singing, "The hills are alive..." Modern sculpture dots the landscape. It's cool. We drink three champagnes, and I start to get a little tipsy. We get to keep our flutes. Our server tells us he's never been to San Francisco, which is about 50 miles away.

It's time to go to San Francisco. My back is sore and I lose my buzz and start to get crabby, as Sean gets crabby about driving in SF. The bridge is really cool. Half of it is completely obscured by fog. After a debate with the rental car company, we come out the winners and take a cab to Sean's friend's house in the Lower Haight, where we will stay the next three nights.

But it's not over, folks! I am required to go out. Andy and Jordan (the owners of our new couch-bed) come home from work and we take off for Chances, a nice little dive a few blocks away. Good music, all of Sean's friends from the neighborhood show, and my back finally loosens up (thank you, Tanqueray!). I endear myself to the crowd by headbanging to Metallica. There's a heated political argument, harsh words are spoken, then it's time to go home. I am so tired.

Holy crap. I'll recap San Franciso tomorrow.